The Isle of the Lost
by The Fandom Equestrian
Summary: A series of one-shots about life on the Isle for Mal, Evie, Jay, and Carlos. Please make requests!
1. Life on the Isle

Hey! Hailey here with some new writing. This is my first fic for the Descendants fandom, so please be nice :) I would like this to be a collection of one-shots based on life on the Isle of the Lost (and maybe a few on Auradon). I will be doing requests, so please put a request in your review and I'll write it as soon as possible. Please make your requests based on the living conditions I established in the first chapter, so it will be like a series of vignettes as opposed to a long story.

Trigger Warning: In this chapter there will be child abuse, rape, and some minor swearing. If any of this bothers you, avoid this fic!

Disclaimer: If I owned Descendants... It would suck because I have no talent or creative ability. But since it doesn't suck, I don't own it! I own nothing you recognize from the movies or anything else Disney (there will be references).

I really appreciate reviews! I get massive writer's block if I feel like no one cares about the fic (which has led to the discontinuation of many, which I'm not proud of). Hope you enjoy!

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Mal

"Brat, go get me some food!" Maleficent called from the other room. Mal jumped out of bed in a hurry, not even taking the time to change out of her pajamas. Her head had practically just hit a pillow, but when Mom wanted her midnight snack, it was unwise to deny it to her.

Thoughts used to flood her head when she went on these nightly errands, bitter resentments. If her mother wanted food so badly at these ungodly hours of the night, then she could go get it herself. Even the defiant thoughts had quickly quelled however, after she stupidly brought it up. That had earned a painful beating.

She climbed out her window and sprinted to the center of the Isle, since all of the street markets were long closed. In the central Isle, there were sometimes clubs open. It was a little harder to sneak into kitchens than grab stuff of a cart, but she'd gotten pretty good at it.

In her run, she'd crashed into someone, and prayed they weren't important. She couldn't afford to be late with her mother's food. To her relief, it was Jay walking with Evie. "Hey, why are you out so late?" she asked them.

Evie replied, "Mom woke up because she had a dream where I was too fat. She immediately woke me up and told me to go for a run and not come home until morning."

Jay nodded, "I was sitting on the roof when she ran by. Just thought she might want company."

"Midnight snack again?" Evie asked sympathetically, as if her mother hadn't just forced her to run until dawn.

"Every night, like clockwork."

Jay rolled his eyes. "You'd think she'd learn to keep a little extra food in the fridge.

"What's the fun in that when she can wake me up to do it?" Mal gave a half smile. "I gotta go; I can't be late again."

"We'll see you tomorrow, then. Try my idea!" Evie waved, picking up a walking-speed jog as Jay walked next to her.

She sprinted the last five minutes into the central Isle. There, she wandered into a pub, ignoring an old pirate's whistle as she passed. She fluttered her eyelashes at the guy behind the counter, and had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes as he practically melted. "May I have a grilled cheese?" she asked with a sweet lilt to her tone.

"Of course, my darling." He drawled, passing a note to the cook. Within a few minutes, a grilled cheese was placed in front of her. "That'll be five dollars, missy." She nodded, pretending to reach into her pockets as her elbow bumped the grilled cheese on the counter, sending it crashing to the floor.

"Oh my god, I'm so clumsy!" she whined, picking up the sandwich. "I can't eat this now."

The guy behind the counter was so smitten with her that he seemed to forget that a villain kid would willingly eat that grilled cheese had they found it in a dumpster out back, as he told her, "That one's on the house. Let me get you another."

She clutched the sandwich and as he turned to put in another order, she bolted. She ran as fast as she could, almost skipping with joy had she not been going so fast. Evie had suggested this tip as opposed to sitting and waiting for one of the workers to get distracted. She hadn't been too comfortable with the flirting bit, but Evie was a good teacher.

She looked at the watch she'd stolen last week, and this time was faster than last night's by forty seconds. She felt a sense of triumph, as she walked through the front door and announced her presence.

"No need to shout! I'm right here." Maleficent barked, contradicting the lecture she'd given last night about sneaking around.

"Sorry," she lowered her voice quickly. "I brought your food."

Maleficent snatched the bag from her and peered inside. She halted her hand reaching in to grab her meal as looked up to glare at her daughter. "You brought me grilled cheese two nights ago." she said slowly.

Mal lost eye contact with her mother not even two seconds after it started. She opened and closed her mouth, unsure what to respond with. She didn't see what was wrong with that, but couldn't think of a way to phrase the question without Maleficent feeling the need to reprimand her daughter for having an attitude.

"My bad?"

Apparently that wasn't good enough, because Maleficent was up in an instant, yanking Mal to the ground by her hair and kicking her. "Worthless brat! You don't get to give me attitude! You should be grateful for everything I've done for you!"

Mal whimpered as her mother used her boots to create new bruises and darken old, all the while screaming hurtful comments. She wanted to yell that she was right there, she didn't have to yell, and let her teenage sarcasm show. However she was paralyzed in fear, and couldn't get her body to respond to her brain. After Maleficent left, taking the offending sandwich with her she noted, she still lay on the ground.

She didn't know when she fell asleep, but it gave a temporary relief from the pain and she welcomed it with open arms. She didn't know what she dreamt of, but she'd almost smiled when she woke. At least until the forgotten pain crashed over her in a tidal wave.

She gasped, holding her breath as she hauled herself to her feet. She made her way to her room on unsteady legs. She sat on her bed for a few minutes until Evie tapped on her window. She motioned for her to come in, and her best friend climbed in quietly and sat next to her.

"How was last night?" Evie broke the silence, pretending she didn't see her sister struggling to breathe.

"It went easily. Your plan was brilliant - it shaved off forty seconds." Mal nodded in thanks.

Evie hummed in approval, but turned her head towards her friend. "Then why do you look like a zombie?"

Mal gave a weak laugh, groaning as it jostled her bruised ribs. "I brought grilled cheese. Apparently every other night is too much for grilled cheese." She sighed, the hopes that she could please her mother once again diminished.

"I'm sorry." Evie said, gingerly placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't be. You helped." Mal reassured her friend. They sat on her bed for a little while longer in silence. "I don't know how I'm going to get my chores done today."

Evie shook her head. "I'll help you."

Mal waved off the offer. "I couldn't. Your mom would kill you."

Her friend jumped off the bed. "I don't have many chores at home, remember? I'll just tell her I've been out jogging. Or practicing flirting. We'll figure out which later. But first, I'm going to go get you some ice."

"You're the best, Eve." Mal said as her friend climbed back out the window. She slowly leaned back on her old mattress, looking at the cobwebbed ceiling and wondering if the kids over in Auradon had to go through the same tortures. Would Belle beat her child? Probably not.

She shook her head, regretting letting the thoughts even cross her mind. It's not like she ever had a way off the Isle. It was just her lot in life, apparently. She could never become anything more than the poor girl stuck on the Isle because her mother was a shitty person.

Carlos

He took an apple from a street cart, and bit into it. Mother had been particularly horrible today. First, he'd earned a swift punch to the gut for not making breakfast exactly how she liked it, then she had gotten her hands on the liquor cabinet and drunk herself silly. She'd spent the past hour mumbling about stupid mutts and giving him an enthusiastic lecture on the evils of dog-kind.

Of course he only pretended to listen to her tirade - he'd heard it a million times. Evil dogs, blah blah blah, beautiful fur coats, blah blah blah, sharp teeth, worthless beasts. Thank goodness there weren't many dogs on the Isle of the Lost. She'd probably lead a fox hunt or something.

As he turned down an alley, he heard a sound that chilled his bones. From around the corner, there was a loud barking. He froze as a big, mean bulldog wearing a red collar with spikes came barreling at him, slobber spraying from his lips and tail high as he growled. Carlos couldn't help the little scream as he jumped onto the dumpster next to him. The dog angrily looked up at him, still barking and slobbering.

He ignored the lingering pain in his abs as he hoisted himself off the dumpster and onto the roof of Jafar's market. He was supposed to meet Jay here, but his friend was clearly running late. He hoped everything was fine.

His worries were diminished when his friend jumped up next to him, off the same dumpster. "Dude! Did you not see the dog down there? You could've been eaten!" Carlos scolded, looking over the edge for any signs of the dog.

Jay just laughed. "You met Butch, huh? He's a customer's dog."

"He's evil! Did you see the size of his fangs?!" Carlos was still worked up over the encounter, while unknowing that his friend was smirking behind him.

"Chill. He's a tiny bulldog-"

"My mom told me a story about a bulldog that once started eating someone's ankles and worked their way up until all that was left was a hat and a dog twice the size it was before." Jay was trying not to laugh, but the look of sheer terror on his face at such a cheesy story was too much.

"Not all dogs are evil, Carlos." He said. "Let's go."

He got back later in the day, to his mom sitting on their Dalmatian fur couch. She always whined about it being imitation - they'd taken her fur coats before exiling her. They lived in a smaller shack, in the dumpier part of the Isle. No doubt Cruella de Vil was evil, but she didn't have much say over what happened in the Isle. Compared to murder, skinning a couple puppies didn't earn you much power over the villain community.

"Child, clean up the living room." Cruella demanded, putting her feet up on the coffee table.

He looked around, taking in the shattered glass and empty beer bottles that had been significantly less than when he left. There were also cigarette butts on the floor, none of them in the ashtray he'd made her when he was little. He kicked an empty bottle and mentally cursed his mother's drinking problem for the hundredth time. It seemed when she could no longer collect furs, she'd turned to a new addiction. He kinda wished they'd give her back her coats so she would stop.

He started picking up the whole glasses and the larger shards, throwing them in a trash bag. He grabbed the broom and started on the cigarettes, ashes, and little shards littering the floor. When he was finished, he turned to his mother, but she gestured to some ashy marks on the couch.

He ran his finger over one of the burns, but it wasn't just a layer of ash on top. She'd burnt the upholstery. "I can't clean this," he stated.

"You will!" She suddenly spat. Her black and white wig tilted sideways as she turned her head.

"You've burned the couch."

She grabbed him by the ear and yanked his face close to hers. "You useless, idiot boy! Clean the couch, dammit!"

She then got up, and he pretended not to see her sway a little bit before stomping into the bedroom. He muttered something she wouldn't approve of under his breath, grabbing a brush and removing at least the ashes from the spots.

Cruella de Vil was constantly intoxicated. She loved her beer, she loved her vodka, and she loved her cigarettes. How she could use all of them at once was beyond him. She never left the house, either. She sent Carlos on trips to "buy" food, liquor, and cigarettes for her. It was at the point where when liquor store owners even saw him they would grab their brooms and chase him down.

He always smelled like his house did, unfortunately. He hated the stench that he carried with him everywhere. His friends had stopped commenting on it, because they understood. They all told each other everything that went on at home.

When he was done trying to "clean" the ruined upholstery, he snuck to his room, which was almost more of a walk-in closet, with the bed taking up half of it and two piles of clothes (one clean and the other not) making a maze of the other. He reached under his pillow for the one possession he really owned. It was a bottle of crushed lavender perfume Evie had crushed for him one Christmas, and spritzed himself a few times before stashing it back under his pillow. She'd promised him another one if it could last until next Christmas.

On the way out of his house, he stopped to look at the one painting in the gloomy house. It was of a Dalmatian, one that he'd found in Jay's father's market. He'd gotten it for a good trade, because "Any friend of Jay's is welcome here." He found it ironic he'd said that, since half the time Jay himself wasn't welcome there. But he was grateful for it.

The dog looked regal in the painting, standing tall with his tail held high. He was ten when he'd brought it home, wanting to make his mother happy. He didn't understand why she taught him to despise dogs but she craved their fur all day. He'd brought it home anyways, hoping it would make her smile when she looked at it. Boy, he had been wrong.

Little Carlos had sure gotten a beating for bringing the devil into their home. He'd traded his last toy for it though, so he was determined to put it to some use. She didn't even comment on it when he'd hung it in their living room.

He grimaced at the painting and it's memories before leaving the house to grab some dinner.

Evie

"That was fun," she said as her and Jay were walking back to her mother's castle. She always enjoyed getting to leave the confines of her room, because when she was home her mother was constantly fussing about her appearance. It also gave her the opportunity to steal more food than her mother would've let her have.

"Yeah, it was." Jay nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow, right?" He knew she was perfectly capable of walking herself home, but the road to the castle was shady with lots of thugs. Her friends just felt better sending one of the guys with her. It was normally Carlos since Jay had work to do, but Jafar's Market was closed today so it wasn't necessary.

"I think so," she replied. The Evil Queen sometimes decided to randomly force her to stay home and work on her posture, but usually allowed her to go out if she said she was going for a run. A six hour run.

They made it to her castle, but Evie froze at the sight of a motorcycle on their lawn. "No, not again," she whispered.

He looked where she was staring, and clenched his jaw. "I'll go meet you in your room. Good luck." he touched her shoulder before grabbing the vines on the side of the castle and starting to climb to her open window.

She slowly walked inside, and hoped she could quickly make it to her staircase. Unfortunately, her mother and a big, burly guy were sitting on their couch. "Evie, dear, I'm glad you're home." The Evil Queen stood, with the guy right behind her. "I brought another one for you to practice with."

She felt fear crawl up her insides. Her mother was so obsessed with making her into a whore that could marry into royalty was terrifying. Just the appearance wasn't enough; she brought guys from the pub to help her practicing kissing and… other stuff. "I'm tired, tonight, Mom. Maybe some other time?"

"No, Evie! You will do it now, you ungrateful bitch! I can't believe you! It's like you don't even appreciate all I'm doing for you. Do you even want to be royalty someday?" She launched into her rant, started to swing her fists and hitting her a few times.

"Ok. Ok!" she conceded, knowing it was a lost cause in the beginning. Her mother left the room and the guy shoved her roughly against a wall, where she was sure a bruise would appear the next day.

Supposedly they were the practice dummy, where Evie got to be the dominant one and work on "kissing." That was rarely how it panned out. She was usually the dummy for these testosterone-filled guys her mom picked up.

He started kissing her hard, biting her lip until it bled, and she cried out. He must've taken it as a sign of pleasure, because he started to grope her in places she'd rather he not, his nails digging into her chest far enough to draw blood and leave bruises.

It was when he reached under her skirt that she panicked. She tried to kick him, do anything to make it stop. It didn't. He stomped on her foot, then he kept going, and he raped her right there, up against the walls in her house, with her mother listening in the other room.

When he was done, her mother came back in. Evie collapsed to the floor as she pretended she didn't see the man giving her mother money. The Evil Queen went up to her daughter and said, "Go to your room. Practice bigger eyeliner wings until they're perfect. Then do something about your hair." she scolded, walking back to the couch.

Evie lifted herself off the ground and trudged up the stairs until she reached her room.

Sitting on her bed were a concerned Carlos and Jay, and she knew Mal was on the way.

She slowly walked to them and sat between them. They both wrapped their arms around her as she began to sob.

Heavy sobs wracked her body as she clutched Carlos' shirt tighter. She cried for the things she couldn't control, for the things she was too scared to, and everything in between.

Later, she was sitting in Mal's cross-legged lap with her friend braiding her hair. Her injured foot was in Carlos' lap as he held ice to it, and Jay was pacing around the room.

"Again, Evie?" he ranted, waving his arms around. "This can't keep happening. She can't keep doing this to you! You're basically a sex slave!"

She nodded, knowing that this had to be stopped.

Mal tied the braid with a hair tie. "Did he go all the way this time, Eve?"

She didn't feel embarrassed when she nodded her head. These were her friends - she'd told them the first time it happened.

"Damn!" Carlos cursed.

"Are you alright?" Mal asked.

Evie just shrugged. She didn't know what she felt. "I feel dirty."

"Don't." Mal told her firmly. "It's not your fault. Not this time, not ever."

She shook her head. "I should've fought harder. I should've stopped him."

"You couldn't have." Jay reminded her. "If anything, it's our fault. We should've gone down to stop him and this could've been avoided. We're all just too afraid of our parents to do anything."

"It's your mom's fault, Evie. Not yours. Not ours. She's the one doing this." Carlos said.

Jay

He wandered through the streets on the Isle of the Lost, recalling his morning. It was no different from every other morning in his life, but it still sucked to say the least.

He woke up in his room, well, the garage. It consisted of a camping mat, an old beach towel as a blanket (seriously, as a trader, his father couldn't even manage to get him a real blanket?), an old gas lamp, and some storage shelves he used to organize his clothes and few belongings.

The door to the garage was violently flung open, almost smacking him in the head where he lay. His watch told him it was only six a.m. Still his father was up and yelling. "Boy! Get up and get to work. I want the shop sweeped before we open and then I want you out."

Jay groaned in response, and the door was slammed shut, encasing him in darkness. He reached for his lighter and lit the lamp, getting up and changing into his street clothes. Sweeping the shop went quickly, but it was a tedious task as you had to maneuver the broom around the objects on the floor. He finished it in record time and was soon out on the streets.

As he walked, he kept his eye out for anything that would be an easy steal. When he got home in the evenings, long after Jafar's Market closed, his father expected him to bring home items for the shop.

He absentmindedly walked towards Carlos' house, hoping he would be available. He walked up to the side of the house and chucked a pebble at his window. The boy's face appeared in the glass and donned a smile, mouthing "One second," before disappearing.

A moment later, he was crawling through the window and jumping, landing on his feet. Jay watched as he closed the window with a soft 'click' and walked over to him. "Hey, dude," he said.

"What's up?" Jay asked, clapping him on the back as they started walking. He stopped as his friend practically jumped out of his skin. "Woah, what's wrong?"

Carlos sighed, resigned. They had promised to never lie to each other about what happened at home. "She threw a bottle at me."

Jay pulled back the smaller boy's shirt and got a look at the angry red welt that stood out against his pasty skin. There were a few small cuts from where the glass had broken, but other than that it wasn't too bad. "Well, it's not that bad this time." he spoke, his voice hard. He hated this. He hated what their parents did to them.

"You think Auradon kids ever have to go through this kind of stuff?" Carlos asked him, a wistful look in his eyes.

Jay shook his head. "Definitely not. Auradon kids are probably all preppy and frilly, and they've never felt an ounce of pain in their lives. 'Oh, look at me, I chipped a nail! It's a fatal injury!'" he imitated this imaginary person with a silly voice, making his friend laugh.

Carlos nodded. "I bet they're all cheerful, pink-wearing, fashion-obsessed, cookie-baking divas."

Jay hummed in agreement. He couldn't have said it better himself. It was easier, too, to imagine that Auradon kids were all suckers who couldn't handle life on the Isle for five seconds. It made them feel stronger, tougher. "Let's go find the girls," he said.

Later that night, when he returned home, his father was waiting, broom in hand. "Did you bring anything home?"

"Yes, father," he reached into his satchel for the compass, necklace, horseshoe, and inkpot he'd collected today.

"Good boy," Jafar praised. "Only six today."

Jafar expected his son to bring home at least time items per day, which was a little unreasonable. Especially considering every shop went into lockdown if he so much as glanced at it. It was well-known that Jay was a thief. It wasn't by choice; his father made him. Which made it all the more unfair that his father kicked him out of the shop to avoid him being seen and potentially angering his customers. If he failed to bring home ten items, he would get as many smacks over the back with the broom handle as the items he didn't bring.

He turned around and started counting. "One… Two… Three… Four… Five… Six…"


	2. Coming Together

**Hello! I'm happy some people seem interested in this story! As per Descendants5HLM's request, I'm writing a chapter on how the villain kids met and formed their little group. If you have a request, put it in a review! (Or you can message me).**

 **Coming Together**

Evie hated her mother. Even at the early age of seven, she knew it to be true. Her little self would much rather be playing in the mud like she saw the other villain kids doing on this rainy day, but her cruel mother had other plans.

"Straighter!" The Evil Queen commanded, tapping her daughter on the back with a yardstick. It wasn't too forceful, but her muscles were straining from maintaining such a posture for the seemingly endless loops around the living room, and the taps she was sure were starting to leave a red mark on her back.

"Can't I go outside?" she whined. The books on her head were starting to tip, and she reached to grab at them but her mother smacked the stick on her wrist.

"No! You're a lady. You will stay inside and we shall do your makeup next." she frowned in disdain as the books toppled to the ground. She looked at the clock on the wall. "Very well, you did thirty minutes today. Although most social gatherings last longer than that…"

"Can I go out-"

"NO!" She backhanded her daughter, and little Evie got tears in her eyes. "I'm going to get your makeup. Stay here." Evie wiped the tears away, watching her mother's retreating back.

"Bitch," she whispered quietly, feeling giddy after using the word. It was bad, but she was supposed to be bad, as a villain kid. The word described her mother perfectly, too. "Bitch," she whispered again, making sure she wasn't heard. As the Evil Queen disappeared up the stairs, she got an idea in her head. It had proven time and time again that it wasn't worth it, but it was raining and she _really_ wanted to go out!

So when she knew her mother was all the way up the stairs, she ran out the front door.

Walking down the streets, elation filled her senses. She started sprinting. Further and further away from that big dumb castle she ran. She ran all the way to the dumpier parts of town, stopping when her legs couldn't run anymore.

"Mother's going to kill me." she whispered.

"Why?" asked a boy, about her age who had snuck up on her.

She looked at him. He was kinda funny looking. His hair was bleached white, but he looked like the roots could use a touch-up. This in itself wasn't abnormal; most villain kids started dying their hair young. Evie's own hair was blue. He had freckles dusted all over his face and the exposed part of his arms. He was dressed mostly in red, but perhaps the weirdest thing about him was the black spots painted all over him.

"Because I ran away." Evie answered. "Why is there paint on you?"

Carlos scrubbed at one of the spots on his cheek, smearing it with his wet hands. "Mom likes to pretend I'm a doggie."

Evie scrunched her nose. "That's weird."

"Why did you run away?" he asked.

"Mother thinks I need to be the perfect little lady. It's all she thinks about. 'Stand straighter, Evie! Your blush isn't right, Evie!'" she mimicked. "She's a bitch." the world rolled across her tongue.

The boy nodded, smirking a little at her vulgar language. "So your name is Evie? I'm Carlos."

"Nice to meet you." Evie said politely, shaking his hand.

"Should we be friends?" Carlos asked.

"Yes," Evie nodded firmly. They smiled at each other for a second, before a shrill voice broke them out of their thoughts.

"CARLOS! Get back in here, you little brat!" Cruella deVil screamed from her doorstep.

Carlos flinched. "That's my mom; I have to get back inside."

She stopped him as he turned. "Wait- can we hang out tomorrow?"

He nodded before sprinting off, and Evie turned to walk home. Mother would be furious with her for running off. It dampened her mood to think of the beating she was sure to receive when she got home.

But not too much she couldn't jump in some puddles on the way, of course.

So, surprisingly to most, Evie and Carlos were the founders of their little group.

The daughter of Maleficent paced in her dark room. She'd been locked in here for days as punishment for a little fiasco involving her mother's jewelry and a sink drain. The only light came from the window, which wasn't much since it was evening. A little food was slid through the door twice a day, but it wasn't enough. She was starving. A growing nine-year-old needed more than some buttered bread and a pickle.

She watched out the window solemnly, occasionally someone would walk by, but most avoided Maleficent's castle. She counted what she watched walk by in tick marks on the back of an old book.

 _People: llll llll ll_

 _Dogs: lll_

 _Birds: llll ll_

 _Cats: l_

 _Children:_

She was zoning out when two kids about her age walked by. She went to mark them on her list, but stopped herself. Instead she tapped on the window, hoping to gain their attention.

They took a few more steps before noticing, and the blue-haired girl nudged the boy and pointed. Mal waved, and then held up a finger. _One second._ She opened the book she was scribbling on to a dog-eared page, and read the incantation. The locked window clicked open, and she crawled out.

"Hello," she caught up to them.

"Hi," Evie said slowly. She wasn't too trusting of newcomers.

Carlos, on the other hand, was ecstatic. "Hey! What's your name? I'm Carlos, and this is Evie."

Mal nodded. "Mal. Daughter of Maleficent."

"Daughter of the Evil Queen." Evie curtseyed.

Carlos eyed them. "Okay... "

"What? It's a formality." Evie rolled her eyes. "Not like you know anything about being civilized."

He shrugged.

"So, what are you guys doing around here?" Mal asked. "Not many villain kids venture this far."

"Hiding from our parents." Carlos said.

"Can I join?" Mal asked. Looks like they were in a similar boat. She would do anything to get away from the all-mighty Maleficent right now.

"What's so bad about your mom? It's Maleficent; you must be royalty." Evie flicked her hair over her shoulder.

"She hates me." Mal said in disgust. "I'm her own daughter and she hates me."

"Yeah, well my mom would sell me for a fur coat." Carlos said.

"I'm never perfect enough for my mother." Evie added. "So I guess we can have a club or something. 'The Sucky Mothers Club.'"

"Sounds good to me." Mal said, and Carlos hummed in agreement.

Jay had been a loner for the ten years he'd been alive. His father kept him out of the house as much as possible, sending him on little 'errands.' These mostly involved stealing, an act he'd gotten very good at. He could run fast, and most of the time he didn't need to. His little hands could reach into pockets undetected.

So here he was, hopping across rooftops and looking for his next target. Father would be upset if he didn't return with something tonight. It was getting late and he was starting to panic.

Something caught his eye. A girl his age was walking alone. She had purple hair, matching most of her clothes. But her appearance wasn't what caught his eye. No, it was the locket around her neck. Even from up high, he could focus his eyes on the swinging pendant. It was silver, with the head of a dragon engraved in it. "Gotcha," he whispered.

He hopped down quickly, running at the girl, then pretending to bump into her. "Whoops, sorry!" he said as he snatched it from her neck, breaking the chair.

"Ow- Hey!" she said, as he turned to run. She refused to be an easy target, though, and lunged at him.

He didn't expect so much fight from- well, from a girl. That's why when they both went tumbling to the ground, he was caught off-guard long enough for her to rip it from his grasp. He didn't miss how here eyes changed to green for just a split second, and suddenly he knew who it was he'd attempted to steal from. This was Maleficent's little girl.

"Who do you think you are!?" She pulled the locket off the broken chain and stuffed it in her pocket. "You can't just steal from whoever you want! My mother gave this to me."

Of all things he'd expected to be doing tonight, being tackled by a girl and getting a lecture from Maleficent's daughter herself was not one of them. "Um, sorry." he said shakily, still on the ground.

"You'd better be. Why do you even need this, anyways? I know you- your father is a trader. You have tons of this stuff in his market." Mal dropped the useless chain on the ground.

He looked away. "He makes me steal things for him to sell."

Her eyes softened as she looked at him, and hauled him to his feet. "I get that. My mother isn't very nice to me, either. I know they're villains, but it still hurts, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "It sucks." He grabbed the chain from the ground and touched the broken link. "I can fix this for you." he offered.

"Really?" she asked. She hadn't been looking forward to asking for a new one. Ratting out Jay didn't seem right, so she would have to say she lost it. Maleficent would definitely ground her, and she'd just been allowed outside after the last one.

"Yeah," he said. I can give it back tomorrow."

She smiled. "Thank you."

That night, he went home and fixed the girl's locket. He'd learned her name was Mal, and now he was determined to make things right. She understood him, and he figured it wouldn't be so bad to have a friend on the Isle. After their introductions, she had given him her bracelet instead, claiming she didn't like it anyways. His father was pleased when he brought the jewelry home, and he kept the chain hidden deep in his pocket so he wouldn't see it and take it.

It was the next day, when he was delivering it to her, that he met the others. Evie was the sweet but fierce blue-haired girl, and Carlos was a dorky kid afraid of dogs. He started hanging out with them more, and got to know each of them. It was the start of a close-knit alliance. They would protect each other from the evils of the Isle, and made each other tougher.

Every one of them had something to offer the others. That was why they stuck. Jay taught even shrimpy Carlos how to defend himself from the thugs lurking about the Isle, and taught the girls how to avoid being pick-pocketed. Carlos brought laughter. He was always doing something to cheer the others up. But he could still be serious when need be. Mal was always the helping hand; she gave Jay treasures from her mother's castle when he needed something to give his father, and bailed Evie out of beautification with the Evil Queen as much as possible. And sweet Evie was the understanding one. The others could come to her and complain for hours, and she would comfort them and be the shoulder to cry on.

More than anything, they offered each other friendship in a place where 'friends' just meant someone you wouldn't mug in an alley. They were the VKs.

 **What do you guys think? As I was writing it kind of felt like a repeat of the last chapter, but I hope it met expectations. Please leave a review and a request, thanks!**


	3. Beautiful

**Hello, again! Thank you guys so much for your requests! They're really helping me get the ball rolling with this. If you have one, don't hesitate to leave it in your review or message me. No idea is a dumb idea. I promise I don't bite! I hope you guys like this fic requested by Guest. It's about Evie struggling with her self confidence. I love writing Evie-centric fics, so this should be fun.**

 **Beautiful**

Mal had always been confident with herself. She was so sure all the time. Her purple hair and wardrobe made her stand out, and she liked it. Never did she complain about any of her features. She found herself beautiful, even when her mother treated her like garbage. No amount of physical or verbal abuse from Maleficent could change the image Mal had in her mind of her physical appearance. Not that it didn't make her feel crappy on the inside, of course. But everywhere she went she carried a self-assured air about her.

Evie wished she had that same confidence. But every day, she found herself looking into the same mirror in her bedroom, staring at the same reflection and wishing she were different. " _You're not pretty enough."_ she stared into her own eyes as her mother's words echoed in her head. " _You'll never be beautiful."_

 _I'm not pretty enough,_ she thought. Her eyes felt hot like they did when she was about to cry, but she shoved it down. Of all the negative things about her, she didn't want to add weak to the list.

Her eyes searched her reflection, landing on her nose first. How couldn't they? It was much too big for the rest of her face. Next was the redness on her cheeks. It wasn't some form of natural blush; it was just big ugly patches of red she had to cover up. A finger ran over some other features she disliked. Her chin, her jawline, her forehead. It was unclear whether they'd noticed this, but she had never let her friends see her without makeup. They wouldn't react badly; they loved her far too much to care what she looked like, and Evie knew that. She was just ashamed.

Her eyes landed on those in her reflection. They were a dull brown color, nothing special. She didn't have pretty blue ones, or bambi eyes. They didn't change colors like her friend's did. Her mother liked to refer to them as sewage brown.

The tears then started to fall from her boring eyes, and she let down her steely wall for the silent rivers to flow down her cheeks. _Oh, well._ The salty tears were good for her pores, anyways.

They were all sitting in Evie's room, talking about nothing in particular. The Evil Queen had long since gone to bed on the other side of the castle, and the distance allowed them to only halfway attempt to be quiet. This was why they often chose her place for late-night hangouts. It was also where the other's flocked to when the abuse was bad at home. Unless Evie was kicked out to go for a night run, the Evil Queen loved her beauty sleep.

She hadn't had much time to tidy up, with her mother insisting she practice "ladylike" skills all day, such as cooking, dancing, and curtseying. Makeup was strewn over her nightstand, along with every other surface in the room.

"Damn, Evie." Carlos whistled. "You have a lot of makeup." He was unaware of the future consequences of his comment, meaning it as a joke. He knew her mother forced it on her.

"I need it," she replied without thinking.

Her reply caused Mal to look up with a frown, while Jay and Carlos watched her closely. "What?"

She turned pink, not that they could really see it under her foundation. "I said, I need it."

"No, you don't." Jay said.

She got a little angry, for reasons unbeknownst to her. Later she would chalk it down to the embarrassment she was feeling for being put on the spot for something she was so insecure about. "Yes, I do!" she said firmly. "I'm not pretty, like… like Mal!"

They looked at her, stunned. The boys looked like they were about to say something, but Mal beat them to it. "It's time for a little girl talk." she said slowly. "Guys, go."

Carlos was about to object, but Jay grabbed his arm and pulled him off the bed. "We'll be going for a walk, now." he said.

Before they could crawl out the window, Carlos turned and said, "Evie… You're beautiful. You should know that."

It was just the two of them now, and Mal got up.

"Where are you going?" Evie asked, not sure what was happening.

"Come on," she gestured, and Evie slowly got up to follow Mal into her bathroom.

"Wash it off," a pack of makeup-removing wipes was tossed at her. Evie stared at the packet, then back at her friend. She didn't want to show Mal what she really looked like. "I said, _wash it off,"_ she demanded a little less gently.

She grumbled a " _Fine_ ," and then thirty seconds later, she was clean. Her skin felt naked, even though she took it off every night. But still, you wouldn't undress in company, and that's what it felt like.

Mal seemed unfazed. " _That's_ what you're so ashamed of!?" Her friend had no reason to be envious of Mal's own beauty, when she looked like that. At the lack of response, she tried a different tactic. "Tell me what you don't like about yourself."

Evie took a deep breath, preparing her extensive mental list of things she wished she could change. "My nose is too big," she said for starters.

"Well, duh," Mal said, and she felt hurt for a second before she hastily added, "It's gonna look bigger with your face hovering a centimeter from the mirror. Next."

"What?" Evie pulled back from the mirror a bit, unsure.

Mal rolled her eyes. "It's not that big, E. I promise. It's a normal-sized nose."

She nodded slowly. Was that all in her head? She couldn't unsee her giant nose, no matter what way she looked at it. Her eyes closed for a second, as she tried something else. They opened again, and she observed her reflection as one would a stranger. _Okay, so it's not that bad, actually…_

Next trait was her eyes. "My eyes are boring."

"What, because you don't go reptile at times?" Mal asked. "It's not that great, trust me."

She smiled slightly. "Well, that would be cool. But they're just brown."

Mal got closer to her, staring her in the eyes intensely. Evie shrank a little under the stare. "Nope. Your eyes are not 'just brown.' Do you know what color they remind me of? Or the specific shade of brown? They're the color of the bark on the Auradon tree we can see all the way from here. They're the color of the fresh brownies we stole from the bakery two years ago, remember? They're the color of your favorite leather boots. Can you see it?"

"... Yes," she said, picturing all of those things in her mind. This continued for a few more traits, and somehow Mal put a positive spin on every self-deprecating item on her list.

Mal then spun her around so she couldn't see the mirror anymore. "You spend so much time looking into this stupid mirror, you've begun looking for things to hate even though there's nothing there worthy of hating. You're beautiful, E. With your mother's constant ridicule and her forcing you to wear makeup from an early age, it's expected of you to have dysmorphia. And I know you can't be seen without makeup because your mother will kill you, but natural Evie is beautiful, and I will keep reminding you of that every day until you believe it."

They were both crying by the end of the short speech. Evie felt so grateful for her friends, Mal especially in times like these. She always knew exactly what to say. "Thank you," was muffled through the two's embrace.

The purple-haired girl turned her friend, _sister,_ to the mirror again, and said, "Mirror, mirror, on the wall. Who's the fairest of them all?"

Evie knew that this wasn't the magic mirror she kept stashed under her mattress, but a tiny sense of childlike joy filled her when her reflection stayed the same.

 **This was fun to write, but I feel like I had some trouble working it into the tone I set in the first chapter. I completely scrapped what I wrote first, because it seemed too rushed and resembled how I used to write (read my old Kickin' It fics and you'll see what I mean lol). Originally I had all three of them comfort Mal, but no matter what way I wrote it the story felt wrong. I feel like this is much better. Any opinions? Don't forget to leave a request for the next one!**

 **~Hailey**


	4. Rivalry

**Welcome to the next one-shot! This was requested by another guest user, about the VKs running into another gang on the Isle. I'm a big fan of the idea, and it just so happens I have other villain OCs ready! Hopefully this will go well. Maybe the other gang could be making appearances in other one-shots, as well.**

 _Haylee_

 _Daughter of Hans_

 _Portrayed by: Bella Thorne_

 _Gigi_

 _Daughter of Mother Gothel_

 _Portrayed by: Madison Pettis_

 _Landon and Luke_

 _Twin sons of Mr. Stabbington_

 _Portrayed by: Corey Fogelmanis and Jake Short_

 _Hart_

 _Son of the Queen of Hearts_

 _Portrayed by: Uriah Shelton_

 **Rivalry**

When most think of the Isle of the Lost, they think of the VKs, since they represented all Isle children when they travelled to Auradon. May don't realize that the VKs were not the only gang on the Isle. Far from it, actually. They were one of the smaller gangs around. In their part of the Isle, they were the most well-known because of Mal's lineage.

Other villain children allied together for survival, to take care of each other the way their parents didn't. On the coast of the Isle was the band led by Uma, but that wasn't all, either. In the center of the Isle there was a gang who called themselves the Street Rats. The Rats were a tight-knit group with their own stories. This is the retelling of the time they first met, and the beginnings of a rivalry.

Mal, Carlos, Evie, and Jay were walking down streets. They were looking for more trinkets to bring for Jafar's Market, and there wasn't much today in their part of the Isle. So Evie had suggested they moved towards the central Isle, hoping to find some new things.

"Hey, what about this?" Carlos picked up a gold pen someone had lost. It had engravings all over it, and looked expensive. Pens were also a rarity on the Isle; most of the children weren't literate, and anyone who could write used ink and a quill. This would sell quickly.

"Perfect." Jay put it in his satchel with some of the other stuff they'd found so far. They'd collected a watch, a locket, a rose someone had preserved by pressing it between pages in a book, and a ship in a bottle. At this rate, it was looking like Jay wouldn't be beaten at all tonight.

"Jay!" Evie cried suddenly. "A lamp!"

An oil lamp sat in someone's open windowsill, and Evie didn't hesitate to grab it. She turned the thing in her hands, and gave it a quick rub. To no one's surprise, nothing happened. "Oh, well." Jay dismissed. "It's still useful. Good catch."

Mal stooped down to pick up a glove that lay in the middle of the road. It was a crisp, white color. The clean white was a color rarely seen on the Isle. It also had a gold trim, and looked fancy. It would be worth a lot. There was only one problem. "There's only one." she said, with a frown.

Suddenly, someone was in front of them. She had fiery red hair and pale skin. She held herself regally, as if she were royalty. However, everyone thought they were worthy of royalty on the Isle. This girl wasn't special. "That's mine." she demanded. Actually, there were now two problems with this glove.

"Who are you?" Mal demanded, holding the glove tightly.

The girl, who was indeed only wearing one matching glove, stuck her hand out. "Give it to me."

"Not until you tell us who you are." Jay stepped forward. He kept a protective hand over his satchel while moving closer to his friends. It was a good chance they viewed the newcomers as easy pockets for picking.

The girl put a hand on her hip. "I'm Haylee, daughter of Hans. Who are you and why are you here?"

 _Hans,_ Mal thought. She knew they were no longer in VK territory, but she didn't think they'd wandered that far. "Mal, daughter of Maleficent." She was still holding the glove. "This is Evie, Jay, and Carlos."

Haylee's friends appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, staring them down. "This is Gigi, Landon, Luke, and Hart. We're the Street Rats. The VKs, I presume?"

"Yeah," Mal said. In the group, they were all equally important. But to outsiders looking in, Mal was the leader.

"Ha," she gave a laugh. "You're nothing here. Scurry back to your parts, huh? Oh, and, give me back my glove." she held out an expectant hand.

Carlos spoke up, "No. We have every right to be here."

The Rats began to circle the VKs, and Hart bumped into Evie, stealing the lip gloss out of her pocket. "Hey!" she yelled, twisting his arm and taking it back before he could get away. He seemed surprised, stepping back. "Don't mess with me," she hissed.

The redheaded twins were eyeing Jay's satchel hungrily. "What'cha got in there, huh?" one of them asked. The other chuckled lightly, watching Jay with interest.

"None of your business." Carlos answered lowly. They would not steal what they'd collected today; he wouldn't let them.

They looked ready to pounce, and the Hart boy was taunting Evie. She stood her ground defiantly, however, not to be intimidated by him. "Pretty princess," he cooed. "What are you doing all the way back here? Shouldn't you be back home in your castle?" She kicked him in the shins, and he yelped. Maybe this wasn't the best strategy, for the others seemed ready to fight now. The VKs prepared their defense.

Everything halted at Mal's shout of, "ENOUGH!"

"Leave, and it will be." Gigi purred. "But we could do this all day." She twirled a flower between her fingers lazily.

Mal looked around. They were outnumbered, and challenging another gang seemed like a bad idea, especially on Street Rat territory. "Let's go." she said, and they walked backwards to keep from turning their backs.

" _But,_ " Haylee interrupted. "I want my glove."

Mal hesitated, but stepped forward to oblige. The white glove was placed back in the girl's hand, and the VKs left. This wouldn't be the last they'd see of the Street Rats.

 **Sorry it was short. I just wanted this to be a first encounter. If anyone has any other requests involving the Street Rats, let me know! I write every suggestion I get, and will continue to for as long as I can. :) I hope you guys are liking this.**

 **Leave a review, please! Constructive criticism is welcome, of course.**


	5. Not Quite Dead

**Hi! The inspiration for this chapter was given to me by Guest. It's purpose is to mainly explain why no one on the Isle has died, especially living amongst so many villains. Enjoy!**

 **Warning: This chapter is a bit morbid! I wouldn't recommend reading if that triggers you.**

 **Not Quite Dead**

"I asked you to do one simple thing!" Maleficent had her daughter by the throat. She then threw her to the ground, and started kicking her mercilessly. "Brat!" she screeched. Through the assault, Mal squeezed her eyes shut tightly. The only thing she felt was worse than being beaten by your own mother, was seeing the smug look on her face as she did it. A crunch forced out a yelp from the teen, signalling a broken rib. All because she had- what had she done? Her head was getting fuzzy.

Her mother pounded on her, yelling and screaming obscenities at her. They didn't register in her mind, though. She was too busy counting to the rhythm of the punches. _One, two, three, four, five…_ It took her mind off of the pain she was feeling with every blow.

* * *

"Shit!" Someone was tapping her cheek, pleading with her to wake up. "Mal, come on!"

Her eyes finally opened a crack, and she hissed at the light streaming in from the window. "Jay?"

"Yeah! It's me; I'm here." He brushed some hair out of her face. "We should get you to your bed. Can you walk?"

She didn't even have to try. She knew it was a lost cause. "No," she whispered hoarsely.

He nodded, "Sorry." He then gracefully scooped her up, wincing at her whimper of pain. He carried her up the stairs and into her bedroom, gently placing her on the old purple mattress. "Better?"

She shrugged. It certainly beat the floor.

"What hurts?"

She did a mental check, wiggling a few of her limbs to test them out. "My left leg, my ribs, my shoulder, my head, my wrist," she rattled off the list.

"Shit, Mal." He cursed for the second time since finding her. Well, that she had been conscious for. "You're lucky you're not dead."

"Thank the Isle and the stupid barrier," she said through gritted teeth.

When The Isle of The Lost was created, the heroes worried that the villains sent there would kill each other. Then, the Isle would basically be a death sentence. Their nobility wouldn't have it, and they included in the barrier spell a sort of protection spell. All of the inhabitants would be protected from death, with the exception of old age. That way, it wouldn't be a huge purge-type place. What they hadn't anticipated in this plan, was that they would use it to beat each other long past where one of them would have died.

"Blessing and a curse," he agreed. She groaned, mostly feeling the curse part at the moment. He kissed her forehead, getting up. "I'll go get Carlos and Evie. We'll be back in a few minutes."

She nodded as much as her body would allow, and stared up at the ceiling. She willed down a wave of nausea, because she hadn't eaten much and losing it would be a waste. There wasn't much to do in the time he was gone, so she hummed a little song to herself. Sometimes, if the Auradonians were having a celebration, they would play their music loudly. If the wind was facing just the right way, the faint notes would float across the water and onto their miserable island.

This one she had heard one night when her and Evie were taking a late stroll, and the music had stopped them in their tracks, They sat on a roof and listened until the waking hours of dawn, when it stopped. She committed as many songs as she could to memory, because these melodies were much nicer than the raunchy, out-of-tune songs chanted by the old guy in the pub.

* * *

Crawling through her window ten minutes later were her friends, Evie holding various bandages while Carlos had brought some food.

"Hey, girlie," Evie said sympathetically.

"Hey," she whispered back, because anything louder would've made her head spin.

"Thank the barrier," Carlos whispered softly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Thank the barrier," she repeated, not feeling it. It was something the people on the isle said when they would've feared death, but the barrier protected them. Sometimes, she wondered what it would be like to die. What it would be like to fling yourself from the highest tower and that would be the end of it.

But such thoughts were foolish. Had she acted upon these fantasies, she would've only ended up how she is now, broken and in pain and having to wait until her body healed itself.

One lonely man on the isle had tried to decapitate himself, but before he could do more than a tiny incision, his neck turned to stone until he busted the knife. Another woman had attempted to hang herself, but she remained there, hanging, for days. Her face was purple and she was wheezing the whole time. Her body just wouldn't die. Auradon Guards had to come get her down, because the others only snickered as they passed her.

"Time to wait it out, Mal." Jay said softly, brushing some hair out of her face and pulling the blankets over her. "You should go to sleep; it'll speed things along."

 **Sorry for the short update! My attention has mostly been on my other story, which is a bit of a higher priority than this. Are people still interested in this?**


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